


let's start something

by thescyfychannel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Boredom, F/M, Games, M/M, Multi, Noodle Incidents (mentioned), Study Date, Studying, Truth or Dare (Mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25022746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel
Summary: Dirk's eyes narrow. "What qualifies as 'too much effort'?""I'm not crossing state lines again," Feferi says.
Relationships: Eridan Ampora/Dirk Strider, Eridan Ampora/Feferi Peixes, Eridan Ampora/Feferi Peixes/Dirk Strider, Feferi Peixes/Dirk Strider
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18
Collections: Polyswap Presents 2020





	let's start something

**Author's Note:**

  * For [auxanges](https://archiveofourown.org/users/auxanges/gifts).



> "a study group comprised of people who dont want to study dissolves into (spins wheel) would you rather, which further dissolves into (rolls dice) awkward confessions of your choosing. nothing weird in would you rather unless its like.....would you rather eat tree bark the rest of your life or shit woodchips that have no discernible cause (i did not come up with that part but my answer is now devastatingly clear)"
> 
> all three of them can have a little a shitstirring. as a treat.

Things happen in exactly this order: Fef slams her book down on the table, shoots the both of you a look, and announces, in a tone that brooks no argument, "We are _not_ playing 'Would You Rather'."

You glance over at Dirk, wondering (hoping) if he has more of a clue as to what's going on than you do. From the way he refuses to meet your eyes, you assume the answer is "yes, but I'm not telling you because it's technically my fault", so you turn back towards Feferi, hoping to stem the tide of potential punishment before it reaches you. "No one said anythin about Would You Rather, Fef, I swear—"

"He hasn't been taking notes for the past five minutes," Feferi interjects, turning a steely glare Dirkwards. "And he's been checking things on his laptop other than the slides for the past ten-ish minutes previous to that."

"Nice detecting, Sherlock," Dirk says, deadpan. That might be a redundancy—you've rarely seen Dirk not go deadpan—but you're sticking with it for now. "And all this adds up to...?"

"You're getting bored, which is understandable, it's a boring topic and all three of us are having trouble paying attention. When you get bored, you like to start shit or stir shit, depending on your mood—"

"Christ, she's right, it's like the worst kind of fight or flight—"

"—and that _usually_ means dragging us into some kind of inane or insane game. Truth or Dare, Spin the Bottle, Twister—"

"—Would You Rather—"

"You two make me sound like a middle school basement party where the parents stepped out to pick up pizza." Dirk would look supremely unconcerned to anyone who didn't know him well, but you're ready to admit in the privacy of your own head that you've made something of a study of the man. He's on edge, and he might have a guess that you know it. "What's next? Suggesting that I plotted to stage a good few rounds of Seven Minutes In Heaven?"

"I wouldn't put it past you," Feferi grumbles. "Just admit it, Dirk. You're getting bored and you're on the verge of starting shit."

"...fine," Dirk says, looking like the confession's cost him something. "But I fail to see what bearing my admission has on the general trajectory of the evening. In fact—"

"Let's play Truth or Dare," you say, because you know the other options on the table and you really do _not_ want a repeat of the "eat or shit" wood chip question ever again, while simultaneously being well aware that there needs to be SOME kind of element of secrets revealed and general potential for fucked-up-ness to keep both of them happy. "Yes or No questions for truth only, dares have to be completable without too much effort."

Dirk's eyes narrow. "What qualifies as 'too much effort'?"

"I'm not crossing state lines again," Feferi says.

"Stays in the apartment? Anything that'd go outside has to be discussed by the group."

"Deal," Dirk says, his response timed almost exactly to Feferi's. You breathe just a little more easily—shit's going to start tonight, of that, you're sure, but at least it won't be nearly as bad as the Vermont Incident.


End file.
